


Walking the Dog

by snoqualmie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dogs, Hand Jobs, Hiking, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pets, iwaizumi is in way over his head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 01:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10686825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoqualmie/pseuds/snoqualmie
Summary: “Basset hound?” Oikawa asks, bending over to scratch behind Itchy’s ears.“Basset hound,” Iwaizumi confirms. He’s suddenly forgot where he usually puts his arms when he's talking.





	Walking the Dog

**Author's Note:**

> god this is a fucking monster but i Can't Stop thinking about Meet-Cute IwaOi (and dogs)
> 
> OH yah the title is from that song by fun.

“Five more minutes, bud,” he grumbles as heavy paws land on the pillow over his face.

Iwaizumi _knows_ his dog, though, knows he's got thirty seconds before he's howling at the top of his lungs and the lady that lives next door is banging on the wall to try to shut him up. He sits up and glares straight into the droopiest face he's ever seen.

“Really?” Iwaizumi asks. “I can't even sleep until eight?”

The dog’s tail thumps loudly on the bed and Iwaizumi lasts about four seconds before he's grinning and pulling him into his arms.

“You handsome bastard. How can I resist a face like that?”

Fifteen minutes later Iwaizumi’s shoes are tied, the dog is leashed, and he's got both his and his dog’s water bottles tucked into a backpack. Saturday means doing nothing other than exactly what the hell he wants. Best place to start? Morning walk. He might even get a little bit of jogging in if his buddy is feeling like it.

“C’mon, bud,” Iwaizumi says, tugging on the leash to urge his pup out of the apartment. He's gotten a _little_ chubby since Iwaizumi adopted him. They're working on it. It's a process, especially when all he wants to do is stop every ten feet and go on a sniffing adventure.

As they head out of the apartment they get stopped three times. Once by the girl who lives directly below him, once by the sweet old lady that lives on the first floor, and once by the single dad that lives in 6H. His daughter is almost five and she cooes loudly as she collapses halfway on top of Iwaizumi’s dog to smother him in kisses.

By the time Iwaizumi and his dog are actually on their way to the park the latter has a look on his face that Iwaizumi would go so far as to call it smug. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and picks up into a light jog as they get onto the path. It's slow going at first. The dog is more interested in sniffing absolutely every centimeter of space around him. They work up to a jog with a lot of leash jingling and more than a few _“good boy”s_. Iwaizumi knows the loop; he takes it at least a couple of times a week. He lets his mind wander while he jogs, peeking down every so often to make sure the pup is doing alright.

It's a beautiful morning, the sun is already creeping its way up into the sky and promising a warm day.

He's feeling good about the pace they’re at when Iwaizumi’s worst case scenario becomes a reality. He knew what he was getting into when he adopted this dog almost three years ago, but it still takes him by surprise when shit like this happens.

One second he's jogging, the next second his shoulder is nearly dislocated by the force with which his dog peels off towards the right.

“Heel!” Iwaizumi barks, tripping over his own feet as he's forced to change direction. It's pointless. He doesn't listen when he catches a scent. He's choked himself out of collars for as much as a whiff of human food. Of _course_ the only time the fucker wants to run is when he catches a scent.

Iwaizumi resigns fairly quickly, lets the dog pull him through the park, around the fountain, back up the path they came down. Iwaizumi’s looking back over his shoulder to try to discern what the hell his dog looking for when he crashes straight into someone at a half-jog. It sends both of them careening backwards and Iwaizumi’s ass hits the gravel hard.

“I'm so sorry,” Iwaizumi groans as he gets back to his feet.

He turns to offer a hand to help the other person up, but he’s already standing again and brushing his hands off on his shorts. The guy is tall, long legs in unbelievably short running shorts and a shirt with a bunch of symbols that Iwaizumi doesn’t recognize. Hes got his hair tied up at the front and a smile that makes Iwaizumi’s heart skip.

“Uh,” Iwaizumi starts. “Hey. I'm really sorry. Itchy was tracking something and I totally wasn't looking where I was going.”

“You're fine,” the stranger says. “Itchy?”

“Yeah, uh, he came with the name,” Iwaizumi says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fuck, speaking of.”

Iwaizumi automatically pats his pockets despite the fact that he's looking for a dog and not a wallet. He turns in a circle and scans the surrounding area as quickly as possible, heaving a sigh of relief when he sees Itchy a couple of meters away, wrestling with a dog significantly larger than him.

“Holy shit,” Iwaizumi groans. “Itchy! C’mere, dude!”

Itchy’s head flies up and his foot comes up to scratch behind his ear. He's still trying to bite at the other dog, though, and ends up toppling sideways. He's an embarrassment.

“That's my dog,” the stranger says. “I think they like each other.”

The bigger dog is sniffing curiously at Itchy’s butt and Iwaizumi wishes he could warn the dog that Itchy is a serious serial farter and that’s probably a bad idea. Iwaizumi turns back to face the dog’s owner and there's that smile again. Iwaizumi is so bad at talking to pretty people. He's already clamming up. He opens his mouth to say something, he’s not sure what. He’s gonna try, but the guy whistles once, short and sharp. The other dog takes off at a run towards them, stopping just short of the stranger and plopping down heavily. Itchy follows much slower, snuffling the ground as he makes his way over. Iwaizumi wonders what it’s like to have well-trained dog because this guy’s dog seems like a peach.

“Oikawa Tooru,” the stranger says, offering a hand. “Kepler’s dad.”

Iwaizumi is a little taken aback by his easy confidence but accepts the handshake, “Iwaizumi Hajime. Itchy’s dad.”

The stranger scoffs. “Okay, I have to know: why Itchy?”

“He gets itchy when he gets excited,” Iwaizumi gestures towards Itchy, who's now sitting on top of the stranger's feet and biting at his side to scratch another itch.

Oikawa laughs and it's an amazing sound, something loud and a little weird and not at all what you would expect from someone so pretty.

“Basset hound?” Oikawa asks, bending over to scratch behind Itchy’s ears.

“Basset hound,” Iwaizumi confirms. He’s suddenly forgot where he usually puts his arms when he's talking. “I adopted him a few years ago. He was supposed to be a hunting dog. Uh, his old owner got rid of him because he's not very good as taking things seriously, I guess. Which makes sense. He's horrible at dogging. You know, being a dog? Dogging. I love him, though. We’re working on it.”

He's babbling. He _knows_ he's babbling but for some reason he can't shut the fuck up. His face is burning. This is the worst morning jog ever. Oikawa looks up at Iwaizumi from where he's petting Itchy and Iwaizumi’s stomach flips.

“He's handsome,” Oikawa decides, pursing his lips and standing back up to his full height, which is significantly taller than Iwaizumi and slightly intimidating.

“Can I pet her?” Iwaizumi asks. He still doesn’t know where to put his arms. He reaches down and grabs Itchy’s leash, though, before the little fucker can take off again. 

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “Watch out, though, she’s really—”

As Iwaizumi crouches down to hold out a hand for Kepler to sniff, she launches herself at him, snuffling and licking her way across his face and settling on licking the side of his head. Her owner laughs again, loud and breathless.

“Sorry,” Oikawa says, not really sounding like he is. “She likes to eat hair, I dunno. It’s sort of weird.”

“What kind of dog is she?” Iwaizumi asks, trying to keep his mouth pinched shut so he doesn’t catch a stray tongue. Itchy is licking Oikawa’s foot.

“We’re not really sure,” Oikawa says, patting his dog’s head. “The people at the shelter couldn’t figure it out beyond shepard mix, which sounds intense but she’s really, really sweet.”

“I like Shepherds,” Iwaizumi blurts. “They’re amazing. They’re protective and super loyal, which is awesome. She’s really pretty.”

The guy is practically preening under the praise, eyeing his dog with this smug little smile. Iwaizumi might be in love. He’s tall, he runs, he likes dogs. That smile. His eyes are the prettiest brown Iwaizumi has ever seen in his life.

“Why Kepler?” Iwaizumi asks, turning away from that look. It’s too intense. He can feel his hands getting sweaty.

Oikawa’s upturned nose scrunches and he has the audacity to look vaguely bashful, all tall and handsome as he is.

“I’m an astrophysics major and Kepler is one of the first guys you learn about.” He waves a hand in a vague circle around his head. “Laws of planetary motion and such.”

“That’s really amazing,” Iwaizumi says. “You’re smart, then. Really smart, probably.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, pointing a lazy finger.

“Iwa—What?” Iwaizumi gapes. “Are we six?”

Oikawa just laughs and picks up his dog’s leash. “Maybe I'll see you around, Iwa-chan!”

Then he's turning on his heel and picking up into a jog back down the path, leaving Iwaizumi feeling vaguely punch drunk and his basset hound impatiently tugging towards the fountain.

Days later at the grocery store, Iwaizumi still hasn’t stopped thinking about that guy and his dog. It’s not constant; it’s just sort of there at the back of his mind, like an itch. He keeps hoping they’ll see each other again. Iwaizumi makes sure when he walks Itchy in the evening that he takes the same loop he’d taken on Saturday but there’s no Oikawa. Iwaizumi huffs as he sets a couple of bundles of kale in his basket. _Tooru._ It’s a stupidly cute name, sweet and innocent and short. There are two major universities in the area, and Iwaizumi has no idea if either one offers an astrophysics program. He should pick up something for Itchy, probably. Maybe some carrots or some organic peanut butter. He checks the time. It’s nearly half past eight. He should probably hurry this trip up and head home. He’s been out since a little after five.

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes as he sifts through the peaches. Maybe not peanut butter. It’s not that great for dogs. Plus, carrots are food for his skin and his pelt. Itchy’s been really good lately, though. Maybe he deserves some peanut butter. Iwaizumi leans heavily on the handle of his cart and makes his way deeper into the produce. The thing is that buying a whole jar of peanut butter would be a total waste because Iwaizumi doesn’t even eat peanut butter. It’s disgusting. Carrots is totally the better option. Cucumbers. The vet had mentioned cucumbers, too, so he should probably get some of those.

He’d said something about cucumbers as a treat because they’re low in carbs and they could boost his energy levels. Iwaizumi pulls out his phone to look online for what other vegetables are good for fat dogs and makes a sharp left turn towards the broccoli. Stir fry sounds nice for dinner. He can make it ahead and pack it for lunch for a few days too. He’s a couple of sentences into reading an article about the cancer-fighting properties of celery when his cart catches on something and there’s a yelp of pain. The cart jerks back and the handle pushes into his gut, nudging him backwards and almost pushing his phone out of his hand. He shoves it into his pocket and looks up at what he’s managed to hit.

“Oh, fuck,” Iwaizumi blurts. It’s the guy. It’s not until he’s coming around to the side of his cart and offering an aborted wave that he realizes he should apologize. Or maybe it’s an offered handshake, Iwaizumi doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing with his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s the second time you’ve ran into me,” Oikawa says, lower lip coming out into a barely-there pout.

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi repeats. “Oh, my God. I’m a dick. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s okay. Seems like that’s just your thing,” Oikawa says, waving a hand, he’s using the tip of his shoe to rub at the back of his ankle so it’s probably not as okay as he says it is.

“It’s _not_ okay,” Iwaizumi says. “I just clipped your ankle, yeah? That shit hurts.”

“Okay, yeah,” Oikawa says, breathing a soft laugh. “It hurt really bad.”

Iwaizumi smacks himself in the forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Oikawa says. Iwaizumi peeks through his fingers and Oikawa is leaning against the cart with a smile on his face. That’s a good sign. He drops his hand and straightens up, offering a hand to Oikawa.

“It’s nice to see you,” he says. It feels awkward and too formal.

“So polite,” Oikawa says. He’s tipping his head again, looking down at Iwaizumi like he’s studying him. “Maybe you’re running into me on purpose.”

Iwaizumi freezes and Oikawa laughs, collected composure breaking as his face scrunches up. Iwaizumi’s heart skips just a little bit, which is so not fair. Iwaizumi can't help but smile, though, because this guy is gorgeous.

"I’m just teasing," Oikawa says, crossing his arms over his chest. "You should give me your number."

Iwaizumi's mind goes blank at that and he lets out an, "Uh."

 _"Because,_ " Oikawa says, emphasizing the word heavily. "You keep running into me and, you know, you're handsome. You have a cute dog, so I think you should give me your number and we should plan something proper, like see each other on purpose instead of you just slamming into me with your shopping cart."

"Okay," Iwaizumi says, nodding and pulling out his phone. "We should—we can do that. Yeah."

He ends up pacing around his apartment later on, phone clenched in his hand as he waits and waits for Oikawa to text him. The entire time he'd been making dinner, he'd had his phone sat unlocked on the counter. The volume is all the way up and he's waiting for the ping that tells him when he's got a new text. It's awful. He feels like he's sixteen years old again, waiting for that one girl from class 2A to email him back. Itchy is sat on the couch, half asleep and relaxed as ever. Stupid bastard. He doesn't know that it's like to be stressed. 

Dogs have it so easy. They just sniff each other's buttholes and call it good. Humans have to do things like text and wait certain amounts of time before replying so they don't seem clingy. They have to wait for the right time to call, they have to wait one day after a date to text the person so they don't seem desperate.

His phone pings after he's done six jumping-jacks in the living room. It's weird, truthfully, seeing Oikawa's name when the text notification drops down near the top of his phone screen.

He counts to thirty before replying to Oikawa's, "Iwa-chan?" that's followed by two different smiling emojis. His hands definitely aren't shaking a little bit while he replies. He's totally fine. Oikawa is handsome and charming and has a German shepard and it's just a lot. Iwaizumi is already overwhelmed but not in a particularly bad way. Oikawa doesn't text the way he talks. His messages are full of typos and too many emojis. Instead of using periods, he just sends the message and then sends the rest of what he wanted to say with another text.

It's cute and Iwaizumi's face starts to hurt from the way he's grinning by the time Oikawa sends, _"Lets get coffee tomorrow Iwa-chan!! I'm out of class at half past 2."_

Iwaizumi won’t be done until three and he tells Oikawa as much. He also tells Oikawa that he doesn't know shit about coffee and he usually just orders black. Oikawa doesn't seem to mind and just sends him the address of a cafe with a smiling emoji and a night sky emoji.

The next day is almost awful. Class is terrible. He can barely focus on what his professors are talking about. He keeps pulling out his phone and re-reading his and Oikawa's texts like they're going to go away or something. The fourth time he pulls his phone out, he has an unread text from Oikawa.

It's a zoomed in picture of Itchy that Iwaizumi had taken in the middle of the night. The flash had been on so Itchy is standing in Iwaizumi's bed with his laser eyes trained directly on the camera. The caption on it is just, "Me right now hahaha"

 

_**To: Oikawa Tooru**  
Me, too._

_**From: Oikawa Tooru**  
Such good grammar Iwa-chan!!! See u at half past 3 ok_

 

By the time Iwaizumi's yanking the cafe door open, his heart is pounding. He definitely half-jogged his way here to be on time and that plus the fact that he's nervous beyond belief have combined into this weird thing where his lungs have stopped sucking in the right amount of oxygen. He's taking deep breaths through his nose and trying not to look like he's just essentially ran from his lecture hall to this Goddamn coffee shop when he sees Oikawa sitting at a table tucked near the back. He's got his laptop open in front of him but when they catch each other's eyes, he flips it shut and gives Iwaizumi a slow wave. There’s already a little white mug in front of him, which means he’s been here for a while. Iwaizumi checks his watch on the impulsive thought that he must be like half an hour late or something. He isn’t. Oikawa raises an eyebrow at him and stands up, grabbing his mug around the rim and nodding his head towards the counter. There’s a split second where Iwaizumi isn’t sure what’s happening but his brain catches up and he realizes that Oikawa wants more coffee and that Iwaizumi should probably figure out what the fuck to order.

Iwaizumi bites down on the inside of his cheek because smiling like an absolute moron is probably not the best way to start their first date. Date? Iwaizumi hesitates to use that word but it really feels like a date with the way his palms are sweaty, the way his t-shirt feels too tight.

Oikawa looks good, though. He's all long legs in tight, dark jeans and a button down that's probably a little too sheer and too far unbuttoned. Oikawa's got this look on his face that makes Iwaizumi want to die because it's so fucking cute. It's soft and amused and tired like he's had a long day. It's sort of weird being able to pick that much up from him but Oikawa's eyes say everything. Iwaizumi might not be into dating but he can do small talk, he can do first dates. Dates? Still weird. And he's very aware that it should be awkward, that he should be scrambling for something to say but if he could just unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and stop smiling like an idiot, he could actually say it.

Oikawa's eyes narrow in amusement and he tips his head, "Hi, Iwa-chan."

"Hey," Iwaizumi says. "How are you? How was your lab?"

Oikawa grins and raises an eyebrow. "You remembered my lab."

"Uh," Iwaizumi says. "Was I not supposed to?"

"No," Oikawa says, nose scrunching up. "It's nice. My lab went well. It's fun doing the hands-on stuff again. Most of this year has just been theories and papers and more tests than are entirely necessary, in my humble opinion."

"What kind of hands-on stuff are you guys doing?" Iwaizumi asks.

He sort of loses Oikawa for a long minute after that. There's something about explaining gravity with spandex fabric, there's a coffee order and a cup slid across the counter to the barista. He bats Iwaizumi's hand away when Iwaizumi tries to pay and Iwaizumi might be a kind of dense, but when Oikawa's fingers linger on the back of his hand, he notices. Something warm gets tucked into one hand, iced water gets tucked into the other, and then Oikawa is nudging him back to their table with a wave of his free hand and saying, "But, anyway, I bet I lost you on that, huh? You're not a physics major. What are you? Wait, let me guess."

Iwaizumi sits down across from Oikawa and curls his fingers around his mug. There's a chip in the handle and he rubs his thumb back and forth over it. Iwaizumi immediately wonders if he’s the type to rub circles on his partner’s knuckle when they hold hands.

"You're taking a microbiology lab, right? You told me that you took 'another' physiology class last semester."

Iwaizumi just nods. It's cute watching Oikawa think. His nose is scrunched up and his eyebrows are pulled low on his forehead like he’s really going for it. 

"I give up," Oikawa breathes, slumping backwards and frowning. "Tell me."

“Physical therapy."

"Oh." Oikawa's mouth turns down at the corners. Barely there, but noticeable.

"What?"

"Nothing," Oikawa says. "I have a lot of memories attached to that sort of thing."

Iwaizumi isn't sure whether or not it's okay to ask what happened. Oikawa doesn't seem like the type of person that likes to talk about things like that, but the fact that he brought it up on his own volition must mean something. Iwaizumi watches him sip his coffee and decides that he might as well just ask.

"What happened?"

Oikawa's shoulders drop a little bit and he gives Iwaizumi this look, like he's looking for something on his face. His eyes have gone sharp and focused and it takes a long second but then he's leaning back with an airy sigh and saying, "I tore my PCL and my MCL and played on it for a full season."

Iwaizumi's jaw drops. "You tore your—What the fuck? You tore both of them? How did you do that?"

"I'll tell you another time, alright?" Oikawa says.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Iwaizumi replies, raising his eyebrows.

Oikawa's smile turns into a smirk and his eyes go wide. "You can hold me to whatever you'd like, Iwa-chan."

First dates are always a lot of things, Iwaizumi has come to realize. They're quiet and vaguely unsettling. Iwaizumi always feels stifled and a little uncomfortable. He hates trying to figure out the right words to say at the right times, how loud to talk, how many jokes to crack, what to ask the person he's out with. With Oikawa there's none of that. There are moments where the conversation lulls but the silence isn't uncomfortable. Oikawa will sip his drink or reach out and steal a sip of Iwaizumi's. By the time Iwaizumi's water gets down to ice, Oikawa is making grabby hands at it so he can pop the lid off and crunch on the ice, which brings on a whole new round of teasing because Oikawa is just proving himself more and more ridiculously charming.

"That doesn't hurt your teeth?" Iwaizumi asks as Oikawa crunches on a new cube.

"Nope," Oikawa chirps with his mouth full. "I love it."

"You're weird."

It's weird, too, because usually Iwaizumi has a reason to leave after a reasonable amount of time. He's got to walk the dog, he's got to call his mom, he's got work early in the morning. But he sits in that cafe with the guy who he accidentally knocked on his ass at the park nearly two weeks ago and they just _talk._ Oikawa is expressive and he waves his hands and sometimes his voice is just a little too loud. His long legs are stretched out under the table and his foot hits Iwaizumi's calf more than a few times and he's absolutely fascinating. He's smart and witty and mature, wrapped up with cool casualness and nonchalance that most people don't possess, but it's all covering something incredible goofy and insecure that Iwaizumi wants absolutely all of, which is definitely a scary thought. It's not until Oikawa's peering at the time on his phone screen and scowling that Iwaizumi realizes how long they've been sitting there.

"Jesus," Iwaizumi breathes. "It's been three hours?"

No wonder his back is stiff.

"I know, right?" Oikawa says. "I'm just so charming and engaging that you forgot time was even passing."

"Fuck off," Iwaizumi says, leaning back and stretching his arms. His back cracks happily at the movement and Oikawa makes an amused noise at the back of his throat.

"I will, actually," he says once Iwaizumi's sitting up again. Oikawa's already tucking his still-closed laptop into its bag. "I've got a lot of homework to do tonight for class tomorrow morning, but I had a really nice time. Even though Iwa-chan is a bully and makes fun of me for eating ice, he's funny and easy to talk to."

The two of them stand up and Iwaizumi is once again reminded of how tall the bastard is. A hand lands on the curve where his neck and shoulder meet and squeezes firmly. He can feel Oikawa's thumb brushing his hair line.

"Bye-bye," Oikawa croons, squeezing one more time before dropping his hand and making to turn towards the door.

"Text me," Iwaizumi blurts, reaching out and catching Oikawa’s wrist. "When you get home safe. You should—you can text me."

"I will,” Oikawa says, twisting his wrist and squeezing Iwaizumi’s hand.

He gets a _home safe_ text with about ten emojis attached to it nearly an hour later and it makes him smile so hard that his jaw starts to hurt by the time he can finally wipe it off his face. He's got work he should do, probably, somewhere for something, but all he can do is lay facedown on the couch and smother his grin into the old throw pillow that Itchy uses more than he does. He feel ridiculous. Like he's sixteen or something, mooning over his first crush, the first girl he confessed to, the first guy he dated in his third year of high school. It's _ridiculous_. He's so, so _fucked._

Oikawa does text him. A lot. The two of them shoot texts back and forth almost all day until the next time they can see each other, which is almost two weeks later. Oikawa texts him during his "boring" lecture—which Iwaizumi finds out is Vector Calculus II— and sends him a lot of pictures. There's one recurring picture that's just a zoomed in and cropped photo of Kepler sleeping with her eyes open and her tongue hanging out that he sends with captions like, "When you leave your bento on the counter and have to buy crappy vending machine food for lunch between classes" or "When you can't find your other artichoke sock and you just really want artichokes on your feet."

Iwaizumi's never really been one for that whole getting-to-know-you phase of dating; it’s always seemed too awkward and stilted but Oikawa is different. He's funny and quick-witted and and after they exchange Snapchat usernames, he's sending Iwaizumi the ugliest selfies that he's ever seen. His pretty face gets all twisted up, tongue out, chin tucked into his chest. The first time Iwaizumi takes a screenshot he gets a text a half a second later that reads, "If you show anybody that I'll kick your butt lol."

Iwaizumi's phone is usually on silent but for the last week it's been on vibrate because he doesn't want to miss when Oikawa replies. It's embarrassing, sort of, that he's so eager to reply, so eager to talk to this guy that's he's only met twice, but it's also exciting and he's pretty sure he's never smiled this much in his entire life.

Oikawa seems to always be a step ahead of him, though. He's always the first to text, the first to send something vaguely flirty, the first to ask Iwaizumi when he's free.

 

_**To: Oikawa Tooru**  
Friday?_

_**From: Oikawa Tooru**  
That works for me!!! What do you want to do?_

_**To: Oikawa Tooru**  
Dinner/movie at my place? Maybe come over at 7._

 

Iwaizumi buys beer. Then he walks back to the store and buys a bottle of wine that's slightly over his usual budget. Oikawa shows up at his place looking far too good for a Friday night and it's beyond frustrating. Iwaizumi only fumbles with his words a little bit as Oikawa bends to toe his shoes off and glances around Iwaizumi's apartment with an amused look on his face.

Oikawa makes a happy noise when he sees the beer in the fridge so Iwaizumi writes himself a mental note to get that next time, too.

They _don't_ get drunk. They get a pizza and they get tipsy, but they don't get drunk. Oikawa looks really good on Iwaizumi's couch. He looks good cuddling Iwaizumi's dog, too, with a beer in his free hand and a grin on his face while they talk about Iwaizumi's job, about whatever the fuck physics shit Oikawa's been doing, about what they were like before they met. Once again Iwaizumi is struck by the fact that it should be a little strange. It should falter somewhere, there should be an awkward silence but there's something that just flows and it scares Iwaizumi as much as it relaxes him.

Iwaizumi doesn't try to take the conversation anywhere, he lets Oikawa lead but he can see him getting tense as it shifts to the topic of sports. Oikawa is playing with the pull-tab of his beer and it makes a metallic twanging sound every time he flicks it. He's uncomfortable, Iwaizumi realizes. He watches Oikawa’s fingers, long and deft.

"Sorry," Oikawa says, waving his hands. Iwaizumi looks back up at his face. "Still a bit weird for me to talk about. Sometimes I wish I had just gone to the doctor."

"But you played on it."

"I was a hard worker, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says, tipping his face up and grinning. It's forced. "Couldn't keep me off the court. Especially because it tore for such a silly reason. I just landed wrong. It should’ve been _fine."_

"I would've kicked your fucking ass," Iwaizumi snaps before his brain can catch up to the words.

Oikawa's face twists and he leans forward on the couch, scowling at the coffee table. "I needed someone to kick my ass. I was too stupid to listen to anybody."

"I would've dragged your ass off the court," Iwaizumi grumbles. "What sport?"

"Volleyball," Oikawa says. He's not really looking at Iwaizumi. His eyes are fixed somewhere off to the side of Iwaizumi's head. He snaps back to attention and gives Iwaizumi another one of those false smiles. "Anyway. Sports? How about you, Iwa-chan?"

"We can talk about volleyball if you want," Iwaizumi says, narrowing his eyes.

"Mm, I don't like the way you read me, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says just as quietly.

"I played baseball," Iwaizumi says. "I played for my first two years of university but I quit when I realized that I just didn't want to play anymore. It was kind of hard, you know? Losing your passion for something you've been doing your whole life, but, yeah."

"Baseball, really? I would've said wrestling or something," Oikawa teases, eyes flicking down to Iwaizumi's chest and then his arms.

"Don't check me out," Iwaizumi huffs, crossing his arms. "Jesus Christ. Makes me self conscious, alright? I haven't been working out as much as I should be."

Oikawa's eyes narrow. "Bull crap. You're a beefcake, Iwa-chan."

"Don't call me that," Iwaizumi says. The smile ruins it, though, and soon enough him and Oikawa are muffling laughter into their beer and trying not to wake up the dog stretched across their laps.

"I was a setter," Oikawa says when he stops giggling. It sounds wistful but not too much so. Like he's nostalgic in a way that's not _entirely_ awful.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Oikawa slumps into the couch and sighs. Itchy groans and shifts a little bit but Oikawa sets a hand on his back and he settles. "I loved it. It was my entire life."

Iwaizumi glances away from his own beer and Oikawa's head is lolled back, eyes closed. There's a tiny smile on his face.

"It was my entire life," he repeats. "Things change, though, and I'm happy now. I play for a pick-up team a lot, which is fun. Physics is fun, too, though. Everything's alright."

"You're pretty fucking amazing," Iwaizumi says softly.

Oikawa's eyes snap open and he pins Iwaizumi with a look that's so heavy he can't move. Then he sits up and sets his beer on the table. Itchy grunts again. The television is low enough that it's just a hum in the background. It's not that the movie hadn't been interesting, but Oikawa's voice and his hand waves and the way he tips his head when he talks had just been better.

"What?" Oikawa asks, lips turning up into a much more genuine smile. They probably should've left a light on or something because the sun is setting in purples through the window behind Tooru's head and the lighting is dim and sultry and it makes Tooru look even more pretty than he already did.

Iwaizumi brings a hand up to cup Oikawa's jaw. It's smooth and soft and as Oikawa leans in Iwaizumi drags his thumb across the hinge of it. The tips of their noses touch. Iwaizumi can feel Oikawa's breath on his face. Oikawa's eyes shut and he closes the distance between them and Iwaizumi sort of forgets why he was ever _worried._

Oikawa's mouth is soft and their first kiss is too short but so perfect that Iwaizumi aches. Oikawa hums, quiet and low, when they lean their foreheads together and Iwaizumi's never heard a better sound in his entire life. He kisses Oikawa again. It's just as soft but Oikawa's hand comes to the back of Iwaizumi's neck and holds him there. And then they kiss again until Oikawa's fingers are sliding up into his hair, until both of Iwaizumi's hands are holding Oikawa's face and they're breathing the same air. Oikawa pulls away first, face splitting into a grin. He bites his lower lip and takes a deep breath, eyes flickering over Iwaizumi's face. Iwaizumi feels a little upset, weirdly enough. Like Oikawa should just come back in and kiss him forever.

As per usual, Oikawa is one step ahead of him and is already leaning back in, grabbing a fistful of the front of Iwaizumi's shirt and stretching up so he can push Iwaizumi down. Itchy makes a disgruntled noise as he gets jostled and jumps down from the couch altogether, which gives Oikawa a whole lot more room to press himself close to Iwaizumi, to touch his chest and his arms and let Iwaizumi kiss him with all the stupid fondness that's been building up in the middle of his chest.

"Okay," Oikawa laughs, leaning back and setting a hand on Iwaizumi's chest. "Movie off."

"Yes, sir," Iwaizumi says, pressing blindly at the remote until the television clicks off. The silence is a little intense. The sound of a fan whirring in the back of the apartment, the whoosh of cars going by down below. His upstairs neighbor is playing something with a lot of bass. Oikawa’s breathing is quick and shallow and he’s already grabbing at the front of Iwaizumi’s shirt, twisting his collar up and sighing into his mouth while they kiss and kiss and kiss. Iwaizumi feels like a teenager all over again, half-drunk and too hot, making out with a boy for the first time in the middle of the summer break of his third year of high school. But this isn’t some shitty dude from high school. This is Oikawa. Iwaizumi dips his fingers up the back of Oikawa’s shirt, touches the small of his back, his ribs, the smooth skin right below the waist of his shorts. Oikawa shivers and leans into the touches, shifts closer, let's hitching sounds fall into Iwaizumi’s mouth like he doesn’t even care how loud he’s being.

Oikawa doesn’t leave until three hours and a few more beers later, cheeks flushed and eyes hazy. Iwaizumi is just as buzzed, leaning against the wall as Tooru fumbles with his shoes. He’s uncomfortably hard in his jeans and stupidly happy. It’s been so long since there’s been anybody he’s just wanted to kiss for hours, to make out with until their jaws ached for no other reason than just to be _kissing_. No ulterior motives, no sex, no anything. There was some talking in there, maybe, about something.

Oikawa kisses him on the mouth one more time before he leaves and Iwaizumi ends up falling asleep on the couch with his hand shoved down the front of his briefs and a smile on his face.

The next evening Iwaizumi is in the middle of trying to decode the sloppy notes he’s written when his phone pings with a text from Oikawa that says, _"Iwa-chan!!!"_

Iwaizumi counts to thirty—quickly— before replying with a simple _“hey.”_

 

_**From: Oikawa Tooru**  
Texting sucks!! Can i call you or is that weird? Lol._

_**To: Oikawa Tooru**  
Go for it :)_

 

As soon as Iwaizumi hits send he regrets the smiley face. Is it too much? Oikawa uses a ton of emojis so it’s probably not weird. Iwaizumi doesn’t understand what he’s so paranoid about. Everything is going well. Really, really well, actually. Iwaizumi lets out a groan and smacks his phone against his forehead until it starts ringing. He probably answers it too quickly.

"Hey," he says into the receiver, hoping it's not as breathless as he feels.

"Hi, Iwa-chan," Oikawa chirps. "What are you up to?"

"I just finished dinner," Iwaizumi says. He can do small talk. Oikawa's voice sounds higher over the phone. "I was going to clean the kitchen soon."

"Am I distracting you?" Oikawa says teasingly.

"No," Iwaizumi says. He can feel a smile tugging at his mouth and it's stupid. "What are you doing?"

"Kepler and I are studying. We have a test coming up, huh? Yes, we do." Oikawa's voice shifts towards the latter half of the statement and Iwaizumi can see him scrunching up his face, leaning over and rubbing Kepler's head.

"Test for what?" Iwaizumi asks, settling down on the couch.

Oikawa sighs. "One of my elective classes. I'm taking a West African studies class and the names are really hard for me to remember. They're just so different that my brain is like, 'Tooru, this doesn't make sense. I'm not gonna remember this.'"

“Sounds tough,” Iwaizumi says, lifting his feet up and setting them on the coffee table.

Oikawa talks a lot, which is nice because Iwaizumi doesn't ever feel like there's a weird gap in conversation and also because his voice is pleasant. It's smooth and light and his laugh is this imperfect little snort that makes Iwaizumi's stomach feel fluttery. Oikawa talks about his classes, he talks about the stuff he keeps on his desk. He talks about Kepler and a little bit about his mom. Iwaizumi talks about his job, he talks about the stuff he keeps on his desk. It's significantly less than Tooru but when he brings up the tiny hand-carved gorilla he'd bought impulsively at a crafts market last summer, Oikawa laughs so hard that he actually has to set his phone down and take some deep breaths.

There’s more shuffling when Oikawa picks up the phone again and Iwaizumi takes a deep breath. Now or never.

“So,” he starts. “I was wondering if, uh, you were free this weekend?”

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa says, amusement still lilting his voice. "Do you want to see me again?”

Iwaizumi is too giddy to be suave and he huffs a laugh, "Yeah. I do, actually."

"Oh, don't sound so cool," Oikawa says. Iwaizumi wasn’t trying. "But, alright, I guess you can see me soon."

"Thank you, Oikawa-sama, for blessing me with the gift of your presence. Is there anything you want to do?"

Iwaizumi is guessing coffee again or maybe dinner, but Oikawa hums into the receiver and chirps, "Let's go hiking on Saturday morning."

"Hiking?"

"Yeah," Oikawa says. "Let's go hiking. Do you hike? There's this trail I've been meaning to hike for a few weeks now and I think the weather's supposed to be nice. It's sort of far off, but we can pack lunch and split the cost of gas if that works for you."

Iwaizumi reels a little bit, eyebrows scrunching up. "No, yeah, that’s awesome. I mean, yes. Let's do it. I'm totally down. Do you want to bring the dogs?"

Oikawa laughs again, "Iwa-chan, it's like you don't even know me at all. Of course I want to bring the puppies. I've got to hang up, though, alright? Should I text you?"

"Yeah," Iwaizumi says, grinning.

On Friday morning he's on his train to work when Oikawa sends him a screenshot of the app that he uses to track his hiking adventures. It's a five mile loop up in the forest about an hour and a half away and it's rated four out of five in difficulty. The caption is just, "This one?"  
and Iwaizumi sends back a thumbs up because, why not?

 

_**From: Oikawa Tooru**  
Kepler doesn't know how to take breaks so we'll force her to rest when Itchy needs to rest. fill up your gas tank and I'll give you cash tomorrow_

_**To: Oikawa Tooru**  
Don't worry about it. text me your address_

_**From: Oikawa Tooru**  
!!!! I'll see you in the morning_

In the morning he stares at himself in the mirror for a solid ten minutes before deciding that the stubble needs to go. And, yeah, it's not really a date—it’s not even the first time they’ve hung out—but Iwaizumi’s guts are knotted up and he's so nervous that his fingers go cold while he gets dressed. Oikawa doesn't live far away, maybe a ten minute drive if he catches a red light or two, but he does live somewhere nice. Iwaizumi gapes a little bit at the apartment complex and pulls around to where the guest parking is.

_**From: Oikawa Tooru**  
Hi I see your car !!! I'll be down in a minute._

Sure enough, Tooru's knocking on the passenger side window a couple of minutes later. Iwaizumi hits the unlock button and he pulls the back door open first, snapping his fingers so Kepler will hop into the car. Itchy absolutely loses his shit, barking loudly and collapsing sideways to scratch at his side as Kepler wags her tail and sniffles at his ear.

"Itchy," Iwaizumi says loudly, looking in the rearview mirror. "Shut the fuck up, man."

Oikawa huffs a laugh and shuts the door, climbing into the passenger seat and throwing Iwaizumi a grin.

"Hey," he says, tipping his head. "Baby face?"

"Fuck off," Iwaizumi says. "At least I can grow a beard."

"Low blow," Oikawa huffs. "I showed you that stubble in confidence. We were never to talk about it again."

"It was hilarious," Iwaizumi says, trying to not stare at Oikawa's fingers as he mounts his phone on the holder and fiddles with the bluetooth connection. When Iwaizumi looks up, Oikawa is giving him a look that says he’s been caught, but before he can defend himself for being a creep Oikawa is leaning in and kissing him once, soft and sweet on the mouth. Iwaizumi catches his chin for another one, longer and deeper and so good that it sort of makes his chest tight.

"Needy Iwa-chan," Oikawa says when he pulls away, but he's still got that toothy smile even while he pulls up GPS and sets it to their location. "I'm playing music. I bet your music taste is awful. I bet you listen to American country music."

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes, "You're such an asshole. I bet all you listen to is shitty K-pop. Not even the good stuff, like, the really, really bad stuff that nobody likes because it sucks."

"I'm sensing a lot of hostility from you, Iwa-chan," Oikawa teases, tapping his chin as Iwaizumi pulls out of the parking space he'd been in. "Have I struck a nerve? Are you a country boy at heart?"

"Fuck off," Iwaizumi says, holding up a middle finger. "You're a pain in the ass."

"You like it," Oikawa croons, leaning back in the seat and reaching an arm into the back seat to pat Itchy's side. Kepler is already curled up on the seat, eyes closed, when Iwaizumi pulls out onto the main road.

"So, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says, settling back into the seat and tipping his head towards Iwaizumi. "How was your week?"

"It was good, actually," Iwaizumi says, squinting at sun in the sky. "It's going to be hot today, I think. Look at the sun."

"She's bright," Oikawa hums, leaning forward and peering out the windshield. "Oh, wait. I like this song."

Oikawa gives Iwaizumi a sheepish look and turns the radio up,

"Oh," Iwaizumi says with a nod. "You're one of those people, huh? A _car singer."_

"Everybody's a car singer," Oikawa snaps, waving his hands. "Leave me alone!"

"Okay, okay. Go for it," Iwaizumi says, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not going to complain about a free concert."

OIkawa really is a car singer once Iwaizumi stops teasing him. It's soft at first but when the song changes he jumps in his seat and whispers, "I love this song." and then it gets louder. It was never really a secret that Oikawa isn't exactly _shy_ , but Iwaizumi is still pleasantly surprised that Oikawa is so comfortable around him as to just belt out lyrics like this, fingers going back and forth between little finger guns and wiggling through the air.

Iwaizumi comes in at the chorus and Oikawa squawks his surprise, reaching out and swatting Iwaizumi's shoulder while he sings. Itchy is snuffling around in the backseat and there's a note in the chorus that, when sung by both Oikawa and Iwaizumi, makes him howl way too loudly for such a cramped space. 

It’s nice.

Really nice.

Oikawa sings a lot, he talks a lot, he tells Iwaizumi about the area they're going to be hiking in. Iwaizumi can't stop sneaking looks at him out of the corner of his eye. He looks good in Iwaizumi's car, which is kind of a strange thing to say, but he really does. His legs are long against the dark seats and he's wearing these black running shorts that are just a little too short and, when combined with the fact that he's got one leg tucked up under the other one means that there's a whole lot of pale thigh that Iwaizumi has to try very hard not to look at. Even his sneakers are cute. They're grey and black and look well-worn. Everything about the fluffy-haired bastard is ridiculously charming and Iwaizumi can't stop fucking smiling. By the time they're pulling into the gravel lot, there are trees looming high over their heads and cutting off the warm summer sunshine and his cheeks hurt. Oikawa is peering out the window, face turned away from Iwaizumi, and Kepler is doing the same, head stuck completely out the window as she pants excitedly.

As Iwaizumi pulls into a spot, Oikawa folds over and digs through his backpack. He comes back up with a parking pass and hooks it over Iwaizumi's rearview mirror.

"Year round pass," Oikawa says, zipping his bag back up and unbuckling his seatbelt. "Now you won't get a ticket.”

"How long is the hike again?" Iwaizumi asks as he wrestles Itchy into his harness.

Kepler hops out of the back seat and plops down next to Oikawa's feet so he can put her leash on. Iwaizumi should get around to asking Oikawa just how he did that. Itchy doesn't listen worth a damn.

"I think it's six or so miles," Oikawa says, swinging his backpack up onto his shoulder. "And, like you said, it's going to get hot today so, seriously, we're going to take breaks. We can turn back if we get super tired, too."

Iwaizumi isn't going to turn back. He crouches down to clip Itchy’s leash on and Oikawa makes a noise that sounds like an, “Okay?”

He has to look up to actually respond to Oikawa, which is sort of a bad idea.

It never ceases to surprise Iwaizumi how Goddamned good Tooru always looks. Long legs dotted with tiny moles, a shirt with sleeves that were cut off a little too loosely. Those fucking shorts. Iwaizumi takes a long, unashamed moment to admire Tooru’s legs. His ankles, the curve of his calves. There’s a bruise on his thigh that Iwaizumi wants to put his mouth on. Hell, Iwaizumi feels like a backpack shouldn't make someone look more attractive but here Oikawa is, quite literally just _standing there_ and is somehow still managing looking like a culmination of everything Iwaizumi has ever wanted in a partner. 

Iwaizumi feels like he's in a bit over his head, like he won't be able to keep up with somebody like this.

“What, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks, narrowing his eyes. Iwaizumi probably shouldn’t like the way he’s looking down the bridge of his nose at him but it’s unbelievably sexy.

Then Oikawa gives him that toothy grin and says, "I've heard there's a little waterfall somewhere on this trail. That'd be a cute place to take pictures of the dogs." and Iwaizumi's nerves are settled. Oikawa is just a guy. Definitely an amazing guy, but definitely also just a guy that loves his dog. That's sort of grounding, so Iwaizumi nods and locks his car and the two of them set off for the trail head.

For some reason, Iwaizumi thought that summer outside of the city might be a bit of a relief, but apparently not. Oikawa waits until they're about ten minutes into the trail to unclip Kepler's leash and let her wander ahead of them.

"I know she's not supposed to be off-leash," Oikawa says as he takes a wide step over a tree root, "but she's so well-behaved. I can call her back and she'll always listen."

"How long did it take you to train her like that?" Iwaizumi asks, stepping over the same root.

"Didn't have to train her. She's always been like that."

"Lucky," Iwaizumi scoffs, narrowing his eyes at Itchy.

The fat bastard is having the time of his life, drooling up a storm and sniffling every square centimeter of space he can find. It's cute, really, and if Iwaizumi pulls out his phone to snap a couple of blurry pictures, it's fine. He'll probably send them to his mom later.

"Do you have any siblings?" Iwaizumi asks.

Oikawa lolls his head backwards. "Yep. I have an older sister. She's pretty alright. We don't talk a lot but when she's in the area I have her and her husband and their son over for dinner. He's in middle school now, which is weird. I remember changing his diapers.”

Oikawa clears his throat.

“Do you have any siblings?”

"Nope," Iwaizumi says, dodging a decent sized rock that's in the middle of the path. "Only kid."

"Oh," Tooru says, grinning. "That's why you're such a brat!"

"I'm a brat?" Iwaizumi asks, raising his eyebrows. "Have you met yourself?"

Oikawa just keeps smiling.

It's been awhile since Iwaizumi's been on a proper hike and if he's honest, Oikawa's kicking his ass. His strides are long and confident and he keeps turning around and walking backwards to talk to him like it's no problem. Kepler is having the time of her life, trotting in and out of the bushes and weaving between trees, nose glued to the ground as she snuffles around. Itchy is equally as sniffly, straining at the leash in a new direction every ten seconds.They do have to stop a few times so Itchy can pant himself back into a regular breathing pattern, but it's nice.

They don't even talk the whole time. There are massive stretches of time that are silent aside from their breathing, the dogs panting, the rustle of the thick summer breeze through the trees but it's not _awkward_. It's peaceful and neither of them have phone service and Iwaizumi generally just feels good like he hasn’t felt in a long time.

The trail does slope up a couple of miles in and Iwaizumi gets stuck behind Oikawa as the path narrows, which is awful and sort of amazing all at the same time. His stupid shorts are too short and the flex in his thighs is enough to make Iwaizumi have to stare off into the woods so he doesn't trip over his own fucking feet. He starts humming under his breath when the trail levels again, turning sideways and giving Iwaizumi a little smile. He's getting a flush in his cheeks, blotchy and pink and sweet-looking. Iwaizumi hates it.

"This is kind of intense," Oikawa huffs, wiggling his eyebrows. "Do you need a break, Iwa-chan?”

“Maybe,” Iwaizumi replies, scrunching his face up. “Are you ready for one?”

“Sure. Let’s find a big rock or a tree or something.” He’s waving his hands vaguely in the direction further down the path.

It takes longer than Iwaizumi might’ve thought but they do find a big rock and when Iwaizumi hops up onto it his feet don’t touch the ground. Kepler hops up next to him and sits tall, panting loudly. Oikawa snorts and sets his backpack down. “Don’t move, Iwa-chan. Kepler, stay.”

Oikawa steps to the other side of the trail, still giggling. “Okay, you’ve gotta look at me, Iwa-chan. This is super cute.”

Iwaizumi is trying unbelievably hard not to smile as Oikawa looks at him impatiently.

“Iwa-chan, you brute,” Oikawa huffs. “I know you want to smile. I can see it in your eyes.”

Iwaizumi can’t help it with that and he grins, let's Oikawa snap pictures as Kepler wags her tail and watches her owner.

Their break ends up being a little too long because they’re off the trail and that means that Iwaizumi can kiss Oikawa as damn much as he pleases without anybody walking by and disturbing them. Lunch is fine, sure. The dogs are fucking adorable, yeah. Oikawa’s better. He’s giggly and handsy and Iwaizumi doesn’t know why he can’t stop kissing the fluffy-haired bastard. He just can’t. He manages to, eventually, when the prospect of hiking again gets Oikawa all up in arms excited again. Then it’s a whole new round of Oikawa’s ridiculously athletic ass kicking his own ass the last few miles of the trail loop.

By the time they’re at the trailhead Iwaizumi’s legs are burning and he knows if he stops moving they’ll go absolutely jelly. Itchy is tripping over his own paws and even Kepler is lagging behind a little bit. Oikawa is quiet and happy, breath huffing out heavily. The hair near his temples is wet with sweat and his cheeks are flushed blotchy red. Iwaizumi leans over and kisses his cheek just because he can and Oikawa gags and leans away.

“I’m super gross, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, waving his hand. “Later.”

“Do you want to set your address as our location so I can drop you off at home first?” Iwaizumi asks after they’ve wrestled the dogs back into the car.

Oikawa looks over at him, amusement evident on his face.

“Or we can go back to my place?”

Oikawa nods at that and Iwaizumi doesn’t argue.

As they stumble up the stairs and into Iwaizumi’s apartment the conversation lulls. It’s not uncomfortable, though. Iwaizumi feels lazy and tired in need of a shower.

“Do you want to shower here?” Iwaizumi asks as the two dogs take off towards the kitchen. Iwaizumi knows there’s water in the bowl but he could probably throw some ice cubes in there for them. Oikawa looks fucking cute in the genkan, unlacing his shoes like he’s got all the time in the world.

“Sure, Iwa-chan.”

“You can go first.”

Oikawa doesn’t respond. He just brushes at the toe of his shoe before pulling it off and setting it next to Iwaizumi’s.

“Or we can,” Iwaizumi pauses and takes an unsteady breath, “you know, we can, both.”

Oikawa’s head snaps up to him and he smiles. “We can both what?”

“Shower.”

Oikawa hums. “You want to take a shower with me, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi nods once. Oikawa pulls off his other shoe and stands up and looks at Iwaizumi carefully before smiling. 

As expected, watching Oikawa peel his clothes off is ridiculously charming. He does it with all the grace of a baby deer, scrunching his nose when his shorts catch on his thighs and then again around his knees. Iwaizumi follows more slowly, dropping his shirt onto the socks on the floor. Oikawa looks up at him from where he’s bent over and smiles.

“Are you going to turn the water on or just watch me, pervy Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and turns to the shower.

“Fine,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t come out as awfully raspy as he feels like it sounds. “Just get naked.”

“So bold!” Oikawa says loudly.

Iwaizumi can hear the smug amusement in his voice and it’s infuriating. He turns on the water. There have been a lot of moments in his life where Iwaizumi has felt like maybe there is a higher power. Not in the sense that said power is directly influencing his life, but just that maybe they’re feeling benevolent or something. The moment that takes the absolute fucking cake is the moment he turns back around and Oikawa is halfway through tugging his shirt off, arms stretched up over his head.

“Yucky,” Oikawa says, tossing it to the side and reaching high with a groan. “I’m sweaty and stiff as hell.”

“Holy fuck,” Iwaizumi says before he can catch himself.

“What?” Oikawa asks, eyes narrowed in amusement like he doesn’t already know. “I could say the same, you know.”

Iwaizumi scoffs and tugs his shorts and boxers off in one go, altogether forgoing the concept of being embarrassed.

“Not fair,” Oikawa huffs, making grabby hands at Iwaizumi and pulling himself flush against Iwaizumi’s chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

Oikawa’s smug smile gets lost somewhere between them as they kiss in front of the shower. When Oikawa steps backwards, Iwaizumi follows, chasing his mouth and barely noticing that Oikawa’s actually trying to get them _into_ it which was their original plan. The spray hits Oikawa first and he shudders, arching into Iwaizumi and quickly pushing him under it instead.

“It’s cold, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, reaching behind Iwaizumi and adjusting the water.

Iwaizumi isn’t one to ignore an opportunity so he leans in and kisses Tooru again.

Kissing somebody shouldn’t be this ridiculous but Iwaizumi finds himself lost in it again. It’s annoying, too, the way Oikawa kisses him like it’s as easy as breathing, the way their mouths fit together like they’re supposed to be there. Every time Oikawa adjusts the water the spray gets hotter and it should be uncomfortably hot but Iwaizumi can’t think about anything other than the slide of his hands across the smooth skin of Oikawa’s back, his sides, his arms while they kiss.

Tooru sighs into his mouth and pushes closer, grabbing at Iwaizumi’s wrist and pushing his hands lower.

“Touch me,” he murmurs. “This is verbal and very enthusiastic consent, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi groans and digs his fingers into the soft give of Oikawa’s ass. It’s so annoying that everything just _fits_ like this. Iwaizumi almost jumps when the bottle of body wash touches his shoulder.

“Sorry I don’t have anything,” Iwaizumi says into Oikawa’s mouth. “I usually just use a washcloth.”

“That’s fine,” Oikawa replies and then his hands are cool and soft on his shoulders. “I’d rather use my hands anyway.”

Iwaizumi completely agrees that that’s the best option as Oikawa drags his hands across his shoulders and chest. He takes his damn sweet time, too, looking entirely too amused despite the fact that Iwaizumi can feel how hard he is, pressed between them against Iwaizumi’s own cock. Iwaizumi squeezes Oikawa’s hips and rocks his hips forward.

“Can I?” Iwaizumi mumbles into his mouth.

“Just touch me,” Oikawa says, more breathy than Iwaizumi has ever heard him. And that’s enough for him to stop trying to keep himself in check. He reaches between them and wraps his hand around the base of Oikawa’s cock, absolutely relishing the way Oikawa whines and his hips push up into it.

“Fuck” Oikawa breathes, head landing on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. 

His hand drops between them and Iwaizumi grunts as Tooru trails his fingers down the side of his cock. Of course Oikawa is a tease. Why wouldn’t he be?

Well, he’s a tease until neither of them can handle it anymore and then he’s wrapping his hand around Iwaizumi and tugging his cock in slow, firm pulls that make Iwaizumi feel like somebody’s shoved his entire head full of cotton.

There’s something unbelievably pleasing about having Oikawa like this, too. The weight of him in Iwaizumi’s palm, the way he’s panting into Iwaizumi’s mouth, hips rocking forward while they stand under the hot spray of the shower and unwind after a long hike and a drive home that feels even longer. When Oikawa comes it’s without a warning, the tremble in his legs shifting to an all-out shake as he comes all over Iwaizumi’s hand with a moan that sounds like it’s being pulled from the bottom of his chest. If he’s honest, Oikawa’s face is what sends him over the edge, twisted up and flushed like it has absolutely no business to be while he shakes through his orgasm.

Iwaizumi sags against the wall and lets Oikawa’s head land on his shoulder again.

The rest of their night doesn’t seem real. They finish their shower, they towel off together, they order in food. They cuddle with the dogs and make out until their jaws ache while some bullshit B-rated movie plays in the background. Iwaizumi feels settled. He feels like all of a sudden, something is just right, especially with Oikawa in one of his t-shirts.

Oikawa must feel the same way, too, because when Iwaizumi drops him off at nearly half past one in the morning Oikawa sets a hand on his cheek and just smiles.

Seeing each other every day after that just becomes part of their schedules, which is domestic in a way that should be sort of scary but just kind of settles Iwaizumi. Oikawa fits into his life in a way that nobody else really ever has. It’s not easy all the time, there are missed connections and nights that he spends alone because one or the other is simply too busy but it just works. He goes grocery shopping with Oikawa, they walk their dogs together, they cook dinner and give each other blowjobs and it’s good. It’s easy and Iwaizumi doesn’t even have to think about anything other than the fact that this is fucking amazing. Oikawa likes board games. He likes to be the big spoon so he can rub his face into Iwaizumi’s hair. He’s decent at cooking but absolute shit at chopping vegetables.

After a night full of everything from Lost Cities to Dominion Oikawa puts his last deck away and walks Iwaizumi to the door with a frown that’s a little bit more than petulant. Iwaizumi watches Oikawa slump his shoulders and drag his feet like an actual child and realizes that he’s falling in love.

“So, tomorrow?” Oikawa says, leaning into the doorframe.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, trying to force that train of thought all the way to the back of his brain. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Oikawa’s fiddling with his keys and they’re jingling a little too loudly in the quiet.

“Tomorrow,” Iwaizumi says, reaching out and wrapping his hand around Oikawa’s. Oikawa looks down at their hands and then back up at Iwaizumi. His eyes are trained on Iwaizumi’s and he’s nibbling at his lower lip. Iwaizumi slides his hand up and grabs Oikawa’s wrist, pulling him halfway back into the genkan and kissing him soundly on the mouth. 

It’s only a few seconds. It’s chaste and dry but when they pull back Oikawa’s expression has gone from amused to delighted and Iwaizumi’s stomach bottoms out. He reels Oikawa back in, kissing him again. A few times more, actually, until Oikawa’s smile is almost impossible to get a proper kiss out of. Then he tightens his grip around Oikawa’s wrist and brings his other hand up to cup his face. The angle sucks. Iwaizumi’s never had a partner taller than him so he stretches up onto his toes to even the playing field. Stupid, tall bastard. Then he really kisses Oikawa again. And Oikawa’s mouth is soft and his smile is still barely there and when Iwaizumi parts his lips, Oikawa does the same. Oikawa’s shoulders drop and he sighs heavily through his nose, dropping his keys on the floor and grabbing two handfuls of Iwaizumi’s shirt.

Oikawa is eager and when their kisses turn open mouthed and wet any of Oikawa’s neighbors could decide to walk by and see the two of them. Oikawa’s already toeing his shoes off, refusing to pause to do it properly. Oikawa stretches onto his toes to pop his heel out of a shoe and their kiss breaks. 

“You’re short,” Oikawa mumbles into his mouth. It’s almost too muffled for Iwaizumi to hear it but his high school team had said it for years, so Iwaizumi still catches it.

“Fuck you,” he says back, right into the sigh Oikawa lets out when Iwaizumi slides a hand into his hair. He tugs at the baby curls at the nape of Oikawa’s neck, just to test the waters. Oikawa’s hand’s twitch where they’re cupping the back of Iwaizumi’s neck.

“You wanna?” Oikawa asks, dropping his satchel off to the side.

“What?” Iwaizumi asks, tugging at Oikawa’s hair again just to hear his breath hitch. Their mouths are still brushing and Oikawa’s breath is wet and hot across the bottom half of Iwaizumi’s face. He's pawing at Iwaizumi’s shirt, shoving it up and touching the planes of his stomach while he takes a few steadying breaths.

“You wanna fuck me?” Oikawa asks again. “You can. I want you to. Right now.”

Iwaizumi pauses at that, leaning back and giving Oikawa a quizzical look. “Are you dirty talking me right now?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m trying.”

Iwaizumi laughs at that, tossing his head back. “Holy shit. I want to, too, but you need to sleep.”

“It’s okay,” Oikawa breathes, plastering himself against Iwaizumi’s chest and batting his eyelashes. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“You have to do it tonight,” Iwaizumi murmurs, closing his eyes as Oikawa dips down to kiss at the side of his face. “I’m serious. Tomorrow.”

Oikawa’s mouth wanders across the side of his face, right up against his hairline.

“Say it,” Oikawa mumbles.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Iwaizumi says again.

Oikawa hums. “The other bit.”

“I’ll fuck you tomorrow,” Iwaizumi murmurs, nosing below Oikawa’s ear.

“Better,” Oikawa says, shivering. “Again.”

So Iwaizumi says it again, and another time, until Oikawa’s kissed his way all the way across Iwaizumi’s face and then all the way back down to his mouth. It’s unfair how nice kissing Oikawa is. Iwaizumi doesn’t ever want to stop. He brings both hands up and cups the sides of Oikawa’s face, pressing his thumbs into the hinge of his jaw and parting his lips. Oikawa shudders and lets Iwaizumi kiss him, slow and deep and messy. There’s a vague thought that flickers through the back of Iwaizumi’s mind that he’s pretty sure nobody’s mouth should ever be this fucking nice. Oikawa’s making these little sounds, too, like he wants more and Iwaizumi wants to give him more but they’ve both got so much shit to do. Iwaizumi breaks away from Oikawa’s mouth and presses his face against the side of Oikawa’s.

“I don’t wanna wait,” Iwaizumi says.

“Me either,” Oikawa whispers. “I always want you here.”

It’s raw and honest and his Iwaizumi right between the ribs.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Iwaizumi says into the hair near Oikawa’s ear. Oikawa goes still at that, leans back and looks at Iwaizumi with his brows pulled low on his forehead.

“I was just thinking that.”

Iwaizumi leans back and catches his mouth again, kisses him slow and deep the way he knows Oikawa likes until his breath is hitching into Iwaizumi mouth all over again, until he’s squirming and grabbing at Iwaizumi’s hips, pulling him closer until Oikawa’s back hits the wall of the genkan. A coat falls off it’s hook and pools at their feet. Iwaizumi doesn’t care.

“Stay,” Oikawa murmurs, trying to press himself closer. “Please, Iwa-chan?”

“I gotta get home to Itchy,” Iwaizumi says, leaning back and leveling Oikawa with a look.

Oikawa huffs. “Not fair. It’s true, but totally not fair. You’re awful.”

“Tomorrow,” Iwaizumi says as Oikawa shoves his feet back into his shoes.

“Tomorrow.” Oikawa grins and hikes his satchel back up on his shoulder.

They kiss one more time, soft and lingering, before Iwaizumi is forcing himself to pull away and leave Oikawa’s apartment.

Iwaizumi is jittery the whole ride home. When Iwaizumi get back to his place he closes the door behind him and leans against it, hanging his head forward and trying to bite back his grin. There’s a laugh creeping up out of his lungs and he coughs once, hoping to clear it. Itchy is sitting on the couch, watching him with those droopy eyes.

“What?” Iwaizumi says, holding his hands up. “I like him, okay? Leave me alone!”

Itchy’s tail thumps and Iwaizumi groans, stepping all the way into the apartment and plopping down on the floor next to him.

“I really like him,” Iwaizumi says, patting Itchy’s back. “You like him, right? He’s good. He’s—fuck.”

Iwaizumi laughs, short and loud to try to clear the cotton fluff that’s filled up his head where his brain used to be before it fucked off to wherever. His phone buzzes in his pocket and when he pulls it out there’s a text from Oikawa.

 

_**From: Oikawa Tooru**  
It’s cold out here Iwa-chan!! I would rather be in your bed._

_**To: Oikawa Tooru**  
It’s not cold Oikawa it’s July lol. You can come over earlier tomorrow if you want. Maybe 6 instead of 7:30. Does that work_

_**From: Oikawa Tooru**  
Yes!_

_**To: Oikawa Tooru**  
Bring Kepler? And an overnight bag?_

_**From: Oikawa Tooru**  
Ooh saucy iwa-chan. Tomorrow._

**Author's Note:**

> /breathes heavily
> 
> shoutout to izzy for being the best fucking beta ever and ripping this apart n then putting it back together the way my brain wanted it to be


End file.
